


Devil's Advocate

by vakarian_shepard



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Slavery, Tevinter Culture and Customs, Things I Wish We Could Say, and, because come on a lavellan would have a lot more to say about, than they let us have to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 23:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8943709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vakarian_shepard/pseuds/vakarian_shepard
Summary: "People aren't things to be sold, Dorian!"





	

Kaya hadn’t really trusted Dorian much, at first—hadn’t trusted any of the Vints they’d spoken to in Redcliffe, truthfully. Everything seemed fishy, and she didn’t like it. Dorian was pretty, sure, and he seemed to be telling the truth, but she wouldn’t be played a fool by any more humans if she could help it. She was a little more inclined to believe Felix, for whatever reason, but even her trust in him was shaky at best. 

Being a mage, she didn’t like the idea that all these rebels were now somehow property of Magister Alexius, and being an _elf_ , she hated the situation just that much more. 

Still, she’d wanted the mages help, because she didn’t trust the Templars either, and because it seemed the world would be just that much farther gone if this Elder One were to get his hands on a bunch of rogue mages. What could Templars do, after all? They had swords, sure, but that made them no more dangerous than any other army.

An army of _mages_ however…

The time she got to spend with Dorian in the Red Lyrium Future, solidified her shaky trust in him. He helped and he cared and whatever doubts she had about him were put to rest when they made it back to their own time in one piece. He’d proven himself in her eyes, and he made her laugh all the while—plus, it would be nice to have another mage around Haven that wasn’t either completely pro-Circle or… _whatever_ Solas was. 

Not that she had any real problems with Vivienne or Solas—they just didn’t quite seem to like her all that much was all. Dorian, at least, seemed to enjoy talking to her and had yet to talk down to her so far. 

He stood by her during the assault on Haven as well, and was one of the first to congratulate her on her new role as Inquisitor once they reached Skyhold. Kaya even considered them friends—one of the few, because even though she’d grown to know many of her companions fairly well, some of them were still distant, and others still she didn’t actively seek out for fear of starting an argument.

Somehow, in all the chaos of running the Inquisition, Kaya managed to forget that Dorian was still, for all intents and purposes, a man from Tevinter, with Tevinter beliefs and values. She liked Dorian, and their platonic flirtation was fun, and she didn’t think when she asked him about slavery, foolishly expecting that he’d say something that she agreed with.

“Did you have slaves?” she’d asked, which to start was already a bad question because if the answer was yes, where had she planned to go from there, anyway?

“Not personally,” he said easily. “But my family does, and treats them well. Honestly, I never thought much about it until I came South. Back home it’s…how it is? Slaves are everywhere. You don’t question it. I’m not even certain many slaves do.”

Kaya’s eyes went a little out of focus, and she could hear the racing of her pulse in her ears as she forced her smile to stay in place, tilting her head as she asked, “You don’t…question it? How can you just—not question it?”

He frowned at her, like that question somehow didn’t make sense. “In the South you have Alienages, slums, both human and elven. The desperate have no way out. Back home, a poor man can sell himself. As a slave, he could have a position of respect, comfort, and could even support a family. Some slaves are treated poorly, it’s true. But do you honestly think inescapable poverty is better?”

Kaya wasn’t really listening anymore. All she could see were the pale white marks on her mother’s back, slashes layered upon slashes from who knew how many beatings. She saw permanent limp her father had after being attacked while escaping—saw the look in her mother’s eyes when she heard someone in Wycome say something in Tevene once when Kaya was nine and suddenly she wasn’t Hana of Clan Lavellan anymore, instead being transported back to a time that Kaya couldn’t even imagine in her worst nightmares. She saw mural upon mural in memorial of the enslavement of her people—heard the canticles the Chantry sang of the barbaric Dalish and the Exalted March that won them Dales back from her people.

“ _You_ ,” Kaya heard herself rasp, shaking her head to try and shake away the memories before she could get sucked into them—the story of her parents capture as children and their subsequent lives under Tevinter rule until they escaped was one she’d only been told in its entirety recently, and it still made her sick to her stomach to think about it. Snapping her eyes open, she felt her lip curl as she snarled, “How _dare_ you? People aren’t _things_ to be _sold_ , Dorian!”

“How _dare_ I?” he scoffed, voice sharp and venomous, making her glare deepen. “I don’t know what it’s like to be a slave, true. I never thought about it until I saw how different it was here. But I suspect _you_ don’t know, either, nor should you believe every tale of Tevinter excess is the norm.”

Kaya’s jaw _almost_ dropped at that. 

Grinding her teeth, she hissed, “ _I_ don’t know? I don’t _know_?” 

Pausing briefly to run her hands roughly through her short, scruffy hair, she continued, “I—Have you _not_ noticed my remarkably pointed ears or the tattoos all over my face? _I don’t know what it’s like to be a slave_ , Dorian?! My entire way of life is _saturated_ with the blood those you call ‘better off’! Every Dalish kid grows up knowing of the Imperium and the horrors of slavery! My history, my people, my suffering, _my chains._ ” 

She met his eyes now, pure ice as she growled, “My own _parents_ , Dorian! My mother and father are escaped slaves! I’ve seen _firsthand_ the aftermath of ‘Tevinter excess’! I don’t care if it’s not the norm—it _shouldn’t_ _happen_ _at_ _all!_ ”

He deflated before her, whatever fight he’d had burning at the tip of his tongue melting away at the confession. 

Eyes stinging, she pressed ever onward. “Don’t you _dare_ tell me that my suffering is somehow _better_. I’d bet my life that my parents would have rather grown up poor in an Alienage than slaves. My father even told me once that to be a poor man is to still be a man. To be a slave is to no longer be a person—merely a trinket, a tool for use, to be discarded at the slightest whim. Slaves have no rights, no dignity, no freedom. He told me that being a slave was like being dead, without really dying. A mere shadow of a life compared to the life they’ve lived with the Dalish.”

Shaking her head, sniffling as she wiped self-consciously at her wet cheeks, she said, “I like you, Dorian. I consider us friends, but—but if you’re going to condone slavery, I’m going to have to ask that you leave. I can’t, in good conscience, allow someone like that into my organization.”

“I…am sorry. I didn’t think.”

“No,” she agreed coldly, voice still thick with angry tears. “You didn’t. And that can’t happen again. You’re smart—clever. It’s one of my favorite things about you. If you can question the Magisterium, you can question this. There are no innocent bystanders to an injustice like slavery, and you must strive to be better. If you want to change things, in Tevinter or anywhere else, this must be on your list, or—or I can’t do this. I can’t face the end of the world with someone who doesn’t think of all people as _people_ , Dorian.”

He nodded seriously, and Kaya felt the fist around her heart unclench a little at the sincerity in his gaze. “You’re right. Of course, you’re right I—it was foolish of me. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry.”

She nodded, satisfied. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

“I know you will.”

Exhausted now, though still feeling like she needed to go to her chambers and have a good cry, she turned to leave, only to pause at the top of the stairs. Half turning back towards him, she said, “I love my parents, Dorian. I want the Inquisition and its people to be something they would be proud of. I want to think they’d be safe here—that they would _feel_ safe here. I want you to be a part of that. I want to believe that not everyone from the Imperium is the same, and you’ve already proven it to me. Strive to be the man that could prove it to a pair of ex-slaves, yeah?”

He only nodded, but that was enough. She’d at least given him something to think about—she’d never seen him look so shaken before.

She hoped that was a good sign. She had terribly few friends in this world, and she’d hate to lose one because of something like this. 


End file.
